


Sticks and Stones

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Budding Relationship, Cursed objects, Friendship, Helplessness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: No harm has ever come from reading a book. Caleb's about to find out how very wrong that belief can be.





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: Prompt: "No harm ever came from reading a book" and how that sentiment gets proven wrong.
> 
> I asked for widofjord prompts yesterday, as a way to burn off my caffeine buzz, and two anons sent me some pretty good ones. As much as I enjoyed writing the fluffy widofjord piece, my roots will always be angst, so this was an interesting story to write.
> 
> So, thank you for reading and have a great day :)

It’s a small, red book. Caleb finds it nestled in between a thick volume about fungus and a trashy romance novel that he’d read years ago. He picks up the book, thumbing through the pages. There’s nothing remarkable about the book, but he carries it up to the counter anyway.

He sets it down, smiling at the elf manning the shop, and asks, “How much for this?”

“That?” The elf stares at the book for a long moment before shrugging. “Three silver. It’s been here forever. Be glad to see it gone.”

Caleb nods, pushing the coins across the counter at the elf, and picks up the book. “Thank you.”

“No, really, thank you.”

Caleb leaves the little shop, opening the book, and begins to read the first few paragraphs. It’s not a very interesting book, he’s not even sure who the main character is, but he can’t bring himself to put it down. Maybe if he read on a bit more, he’ll find something worth talking about with one of the others. Most likely Nott. Maybe Fjord. Would Fjord be interested in this book? Is Fjord interested in any book?

He bumps into someone, murmuring an apology, face still buried in his book. He hears them grumble after him, but he keeps moving. He’s sure they’re fine.

He gets back to the inn they’re staying at a few minutes later, bumping into three or four more people on the way, and falls into a random chair near the fire. The chatter around him turns into a low hum, the crackling fire merely white noise as he lets himself get lost in the book. He still doesn’t see what’s so interesting about it, but he keeps reading anyway.

* * *

 Molly notices Caleb’s absence first, looking towards the door curiously, and lightly kicks Fjord under the table.

“What?”

“You notice someone missing?” Molly asks, gesturing to the table. They’d planned to meet at the tavern after their supply run, intending to have dinner together before everyone headed back to the inn for the night.

Fjord scans the table, counting heads, eyebrows furrowing when he realizes Caleb’s missing. “Hey, Nott, where’s Caleb?”

“What?” she looks around, eyes wide. “He said he was just going to stop by that Bits and Baubles shop for a few minutes. He wasn’t with either of you?” They shakes their heads. She turns to Jester and Beau. “What about you two?”

“Perhaps he’s back at the inn?” Jester suggests, a little worried, but still trying to sound positive. “I could go check.”

“Nah, I’ll do it,” Fjord says, getting to his feet.

“I’ll come with you,” Molly offers and he nods, heading towards the door, Molly on his heels.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Molly says once they’re outside, jogging alongside Fjord to keep up with his long strides. “Wow, you’re quick when you’re worried.”

“Not worried,” Fjord lies, speeding up just a little, and Molly sighs but quickens his pace, too.

They make it to the inn a few minutes later, Fjord bursting in intending to ask the lady behind the counter if she’d seen Caleb, only to sag against the door when he finds him sitting by the fire, nose buried in a book.

“Oh thank the gods,” he whispers, putting a hand to his forehead, letting his eyes drift closed in relief. He takes a moment to gather himself before opening his eyes and pushing away from the door, slowly crossing the room and taking a seat next to Caleb.

Molly follows him, leaning over Caleb’s chair, and gently pulls on his ear. He jumps, forcing himself to look up from the book, and offers Fjord and Molly a sheepish grin. “Oh, no, did I miss dinner?”

“Uh, no,” Fjord responds, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t miss dinner.”

Molly watches as Caleb’s eyes drift towards the book, and he tugs on Caleb’s ear again. His head pops up and he turns and scowls at Molly. “Stop.”

“Good book?” Molly asks curiously, looking down at the red cover. It’s a small book, bound in leather, and knowing Caleb he’s probably already read it twice since buying it.

“I don’t...” Caleb shrugs, looking down at the pages again. “I guess,” he mutters, eyes roaming over the words. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, maybe you should close the book, come to dinner, and finish it later,” Fjord suggests, reaching out to shut the book, but Caleb jumps up with surprising speed and moves away from him, hurrying up the steps to their room, nose still firmly buried in that book.

Fjord’s eyes follow his progress, forehead creasing with worry, and Molly reaches out to rub away the wrinkles, startling him, smiling when he scowls. “You’re much too pretty for wrinkles.”

Flushing, Fjord grumbles, “Stop it.” He looks back towards the stairs, chewing on his lip, and says, “I’m gonna keep an eye on him; let the girls know, okay?”

Molly sighs but nods, squeezing Fjord’s shoulder, and walks out of the inn. He can’t help worriedly looking towards the stairs before closing the door.

* * *

Dawn finds Caleb sitting on the floor under the window, his candle having burned out a long time ago, still reading the book. He’s certain he should have finished it a long time ago, certain it hadn’t been this long, but he’s no closer to the end.

Frustrated, he turns another page, gripping the book tightly. He just needs to make it to the end; he can make it to the end.

“Hey, man, did you not sleep?” Beau asks from the doorway, coming back from using the washroom.

Caleb shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the book. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look sorta...” she hisses softly and Caleb can almost picture her fingers curling into claws. “You know?”

Annoyed, Caleb turns another page and snaps, “No, I don’t know. Leave me alone.”

“Whoa, man, calm down. I’m sure that’s a great book, but it’ll be there after some sleep.”

“I said I’m fine.” Caleb scrambles to his feet, almost dropping his book, and storms out of the room, the door cracking against the wall when he shoves it open, rattling the windows.

He doesn’t look back when Beau calls his name, nor does he notice when he wakes the others; his face buried in the book, eyes darting frantically across the words. He needs to make it to the end.

* * *

“Caleb’s never acted like this before,” Nott says softly, looking up at the others. “He does get a little annoyed when he’s in the middle of a book and someone tries talking to him, but he’s never snapped at anyone.”

“Something is wrong with that book,” Beau says from across the room, fixing the handle on her staff. “We should burn it.”

“Can a book be evil?” Jester asks curiously from the foot of one of the beds, looking between Molly and Fjord.

“We live in a world where magic and monsters exist,” Molly states, slowly tapping his tail against the floor. “I’d be surprised if there weren’t some evil books lying around, but I’m banking on cursed object.”

“Where did you say Caleb went yesterday?” Fjord looks over at Nott, who sits cross legged in the middle of the other bed, her eyes wide with worry.

“Uh, Bits and Baubles. It’s a secondhand shop the lady at the apothecary told us about. Caleb told me I didn’t have to come with if I didn’t want to, and I would have but...” she pulls a ring out of her pocket, holding it up for the others to see. “I saw it and I just...” she wraps her long, green fingers around it and shoves it back in her pocket. She grabs her flask off her hip, taking a long sip from it, and replaces it. “We could go ask about the book?”

Fjord nods, looking over at Molly, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“I’m up for another shopping trip,” Molly says, grabbing his coat off the back of the door.

“Ooh, I will come, too,” Jester says jumping to her feet.

“I’ll stay here, keep an eye on Caleb,” Beau says, resting her staff against the wall and getting up from her chair.

“I’ll stay with you,” Nott offers and Beau smiles at her.

“Okay, we’ll meet back here in an hour. And Nott.” She looks over at Fjord. “If you feel like Caleb’s gonna be a danger to anyone or himself let us know with that fancy communication spell you do. Okay?”

She nods. “I will.”

* * *

Jester swings the door back and forth, giggling when the bell jingles. Fjord notices the elf manning the shop scowling and gently pulls her away from the door, guiding her inside, listening as Molly shuts the door.

“I like your bell,” Jester tells the elf, smiling sweetly.

“I don’t,” he grumbles, wrinkling his nose. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, our friend came in here earlier,” Fjord says, stepping up to the counter and leaning against it.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” the elf says, leaning back on his heels and crossing his arms. “People come and go all day.”

“He has red hair, blue eyes...”

“Kinda smelly,” Jester calls from behind a shelf, laughing softly, and Fjord has to hold back a sigh. She’s probably reorganizing stuff again.

“About my height,” Molly supplies, slowly wandering around the shop, poking at objects. “Has a bit of an accent.”

“He might have bought a book,” Fjord adds helpfully.

“A book?” The elf thinks a minute, nodding slowly, and says, “I might remember him. If it’s the guy I’m thinking about, he bought some old book for a few silver. I wasn’t sad to see it go. It’s been here since my father opened this shop.”

“Do you know what the book is called? Or where your father got it?”

The elf shrugs. “He opened this shop well before I was born, so I don’t know much about it. I do know an elderly man sold it to him, along with a few other things.”

“And where is your father?” Molly asks curiously, returning to Fjord’s side.

The elf sighs softly, uncrossing his arms, and says, “He died ten years ago. Left me his shop.” He looks around the place, lips twisting into a bitter smile, and he shakes his head. “Should have let my sister have it.”

“Thank you,” Fjord says with a nod, following Molly towards the door, calling Jester’s name.

She skips past the counter, but stops, staring the elf in the eyes. She reaches into her bag, pulling out a bronze coin, and sets it gently on the counter. “May The Traveler be with you, friend.”

Eyes narrowed, the elf looks down at the coin and grunts, “Thanks.”

“Good day.”

Once outside, Fjord leans against the building, running a hand through his hair, and says, “Well, that didn’t help.”

“Maybe we can ask around, see if anyone...”

“ _Fjord, Fjord, Fjord!”_ Nott’s frantic voice startles Fjord, and he stumbles back into Molly, cutting him off.

Molly catches his shoulders and sets him back on his feet. “You okay?”

Fjord holds up a finger, listening to Nott. “ _Caleb is gone. Beau and I can’t find him! FJORD!!”_

“We gotta go.”

* * *

Caleb trips over a root, barely catching himself, and continues deeper into the woods. He’s tried putting the book down twice, knowing deep down he shouldn’t be this obsessed with it, but a nagging voice in the back of his head keeps telling him he needs to finish it. He needs to reach the ending; if he could only reach the ending then everything would be fine.

He eventually stops in the middle of the forest, settling against one of the trees, and sits down heavily, clutching the book tightly in his hands. If he’s being honest he’s scared, really really scared, and he’d like nothing more than to put this books down and be done with it.

He just wants to be done.

* * *

 “Caleb please answer,” Nott says, toying with her wire. She’s been trying to reach him for the past twenty minutes, but she’s been getting nothing but white noise. “Please answer me.”

“Anything?” Fjord asks hopefully, face falling when Nott shakes her head. “Keep trying.”

“I will.”

Molly and Beau are out asking around, hoping someone saw which direction Caleb ran off in, while Jester is upstairs asking her patron for guidance. Fjord feels helpless, sitting down here, pacing back and forth, knowing he should be doing something but not knowing what exactly.

He stops pacing, leaning against the front desk, resting his head against the wood. He should have taken that book away from Caleb yesterday, should have grabbed it out of his hands and ran away with it. Took it as far away from him as he could go; threw it off a cliff, into the water, into a fire; just destroyed the fucking thing. He should have done something, but what harm could come from reading a book.

Apparently a lot.

The door bursts open and Molly and Beau race inside, both talking over each other, and Fjord picks his head up. He looks between the two, trying to piece together what they’re saying, feeling his last thread of patience break.

He lets out a frustrated breath and yells, “Enough!” Abruptly, both stop talking, and Fjord sighs softly, rubbing his forehead. “Just, just tell me if anyone saw him.”

“He’s in the woods,” Jester announces from the top of the stairs.

Fjord turns, watching her rush down the stairs. “Are you sure?”

“Never question The Traveler, Fjord,” she replies, patting his shoulder as she skips past him, hurrying out the door.

“Let’s go,” Fjord says and the others nod, following Jester outside.

* * *

 “What are we going to do when we find him?” Molly asks curiously, ducking under a branch to avoid cracking his forehead.

“I’m gonna rip that fucking book out of his hands and set it on fire,” Fjord answers gruffly, trampling wild plant life as he stomps through the woods.

“Okay but what about with Caleb?”

“What about Caleb?”

“What are you going to do with him?” Molly keeps his voice light, but he can’t help wondering if Caleb might try to fight back if they took his book. He’d snapped at Beau for suggesting he stop reading for a bit; ran away from Fjord when he tried to close it. What would happen if they destroyed it completely? “It might kill...”

Fjord stops abruptly, turning around to face Molly. “Caleb ain’t dying today. You hear me? That fucking book’s not gonna kill him. He’s gonna be fine.” Despite the anger visibly etched across his face, Molly sees the anguish and desperation in his eyes.

With a kind smile, Molly starts, “But if he’s not...?”

All the fight leaves Fjord and he sighs, burying his face in his hands. He breathes deeply, once, twice, before slowly lowering his hands and saying, “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.” He turns and starts walking again. “Come on!”

* * *

“Has he answered you, yet?” Beau asks curiously, squinting into the darkness, hoping to see something. She curses her stupid, human eyes.

“No,” Nott answers glumly, worriedly wrapping her wire around her finger. “You don’t think he’s dead do you?”

“Of course not,” Jester exclaims, grabbing Beau’s hand and making her jump. “Come on, I will guide you.”

Dumbfounded, Beau murmurs, “Okay.”

“B-but he could be.”

“Nott, I promise, he is not,” Jester says, looking back at her with a kind smile. “The Traveler would have told me.”

Skeptical, Nott nods slowly and follows the other two deeper into the woods, trying to contact Caleb again.

* * *

Fjord sees Caleb first, huddled under a tree, shivering slightly, face still buried in that stupid book. His coat, Fjord recalls, sits abandoned in the chair back in their room, and he curses himself for not thinking to grab it.

He nudges Molly, pointing in Caleb’s direction, and the two hurry forward. When he’s within touching distance, Molly shrugs off his coat and lays it over Caleb’s shoulders, gently patting his arm.

Caleb doesn’t acknowledge them, forehead furrowed in concentration, eyes flicking back and forth as he frantically reads his book. He looks tired, ugly dark circles under his eyes, and Fjord resits the urge to pull him into a hug.

He looks over at Molly and whispers, “When I take the book, I want you to grab him and hold him back. No matter what happens, don’t let him go, okay?”

Molly hesitates for a brief moment before nodding, hovering over Caleb, readying himself just in case he started fighting them. Fjord takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and snatches the book from Caleb’s fingers.

“No,” Caleb exclaims, reaching for it, but Molly wraps his arms around him, holding him in place, watching as Fjord quickly backs away. “Fjord, please, give it back. Please.”

“Caleb, this book is killing you,” Fjord says calmly, trying to ignore the sudden urge to open it and start reading it. “We gotta...” he shakes his head, clutching the book tightly. “We gotta destroy it.”

“Please, Fjord, please don’t. Don’t.”

Caleb’s pleading grounds Fjord, reminds him why they’re here, and he’s able to push past his urge, looking right at Molly. “Keep him here. I’m gonna take care of this and we’ll find the girls. Okay?”

Molly nods, worry and doubt flickering across his face, and he tightens his hold on Caleb, resting his chin on top of his head, flinching when small whimpers escape Caleb’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Fjord says softly to Caleb and carries the book deeper into the woods, shoulders stiffening when he hears him yell unintelligibly at his back.

He walks a good twenty minutes before stopping, looking around the clearing. He finds a boulder, moss covered and oddly shaped, and sets the book down on it.

“ _You could use this power,”_  a sudden voice says in the back of his head, but Fjord ignores it. “ _Think about this before you destroy it.”_

Fjord conjures his falchion, gripping it tightly, and says, “Should have thought about that before it hurt my friend.” He brings the sword down, slicing through the book, and somewhere in the distance he hears an anguished wail. He swings at the book once, twice, three times more before he drops his falchion, falling to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry.”

* * *

Fjord slowly walks up to the second floor, the murmurs from his friends following him up the steps, and he quietly pushes their room’s door open. He stops in the doorway, watching Caleb sleep, curled over on his side, blanket pulled up to his chin, breathing slow and even. He’s been asleep since they returned to the inn, having leaned heavily against Molly the entire walk back, and Fjord would be lying if he said he isn’t worried.

He moves across the room, hovering over the bed, hesitating for a few seconds, before slowly lowering himself onto the mattress, turning over on his side so he’s facing Caleb, his head on the very edge of the pillow.

He reaches out, brushing hair off his forehead, drawing his hand back when Caleb stirs. He rubs his face against the pillow, murmuring, “Fjord?”

“Yeah,” Fjord whispers, watching as Caleb blinks his eyes open. He still looks tired, could probably use a week’s worth of sleep, and Fjord’s willing to spend every single piece of gold he has on this room if that’s what Caleb wants to do; he’s willing to do a lot to ensure he stays safe.

“What happened? Where are we?”

“We’re back at the inn,” Fjord answers softly. “What do you remember?”

Confusion flickers in Caleb’s eyes for a few seconds before realization hits and he closes his eyes, pressing his face into the pillow. He’s quiet a moment, before turning his head and asking, “Are the others upset with me?” The unspoken  _are you_  is like a stab to Fjord’s heart.

“No one is mad at you,” Fjord reassures him, reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead again. “Everyone’s worried as hell, but we’re not mad.”

Caleb’s eyes drift shut when Fjord runs his fingers across his forehead, and he mumbles, “I’m sorry.”

Fjord fights to keep the anger off his face, forcing himself to sound calm when he says, “It’s not your fault. It’s that book’s fault.”

“I didn’t want to read it,” Caleb explains, opening his eyes. “I just couldn’t stop.”

“I know.” Fjord leans forward, lightly kissing his forehead. “It’s gone now. I destroyed it.”

Caleb grabs his hand, squeezing it, and worriedly asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replies, but the words feel a bit like a lie. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Caleb admits, yawning widely, pulling Fjord’s arm around him, burrowing into his side. “Stay with me for a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Fjord watches as he goes back to sleep, breath warm against his cheek, nose pressed into the side of his neck. He sighs softly, running his fingers through his hair, reveling in the moment, knowing that Caleb is alive.

He lets his eyes slip closed, opening them suddenly when he remembers Caleb’s wail of pain when he sliced through that book, flinching internally. He fights the urge to apologize again, knowing that if he gives in, he won’t be able to stop.


End file.
